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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26662654">Practice Makes Perfect</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me'>hopelessly_me</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bucky relearning how to play piano, Clint and his mother hens, Clint learning to play piano, Fluff, Getting used to each other, M/M, Sick Clint, Soft Boys, Soulmates, Steve is a good boyfriend, happy steve, worried Bucky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:40:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26662654</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky cannot shake the memories of a sick Steve when Steve texts him that Clint is sick. Trying to calm himself down, Bucky decides he wants to relearn how to play the piano. He gets a little more than what he was expecting.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kisses Bingo, Winterhawk Bingo Round Two</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Practice Makes Perfect</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This covers two more bingo squares (I like a challenge, we all know this). This covers my Winterhawk Bingo square B2 (Ameriwinterhawk) and kisses bingo square O5 (learning to play piano together).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bucky was set on a path the moment the jet touched down. He could still hear Fury calling out to him, telling him they needed to debrief and Bucky growled out a “later”, not stopping. Natasha didn’t try to stop him- if anything, he suspected that she was probably trying to settle Fury down before the man tried to drag Bucky away from his mission. What could Bucky say? Missions were deeply ingrained in him still, even if this one was on the personal side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All it took to get Bucky this wound up was a simple text. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not going to family night- Clint’s pretty sick</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It opened a floodgate of memories of a scrawny blond guy laying in bed, Bucky taking his temperature, trying to get him to breath, and hoping like hell Steve would make it to see another day. And while, logically, he knew Clint wasn’t Steve, it wouldn’t translate over in his head. He just needed to see Clint to know he was okay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky made it to their shared floor and headed back, not bothering to remove his gear. He walked straight back and opened the door just enough to slip in and get his first look. Clint was asleep, his face red and his hair damp, clinging to his forehead. The bedding was in chaos, one of Clint’s arms flung over his head, a leg out from under the blanket, and great- Bucky was going to have to be that person again with yet another blond who couldn’t take care of themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve sat up in the bed and looked over before Bucky closed the door behind him. “He okay?” Bucky whispered, too afraid to get too close in case he woke Clint up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve, however, smiled and looked down. “You know he can’t hear you, right?” he asked at his normal volume, his tone filled with amusement. “He’s fine. JARVIS will let us know if he needs to go to a hospital or anything. But it’s just a bug.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky carefully made his way closer. Clint’s face scrunched up and Bucky froze before Clint muttered something in his sleep and within a few seconds his face went back to a neutral expression. He was breathing hard, something rattling somewhere in his chest. It was unsettling. Bucky sat on the ground next to the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could always get up here,” Steve offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to risk waking him up,” Bucky said, unable to raise his voice. Clint’s hair was drenched, his cheeks red. Carefully, Bucky reached out but he couldn’t bring himself to touch him. “You sure he is okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m more sure he is okay than you are,” Steve answered. Bucky looked up just as Steve got out of the bed. He came around and sat next to Bucky, a hand on Bucky’s back, rubbing it reassuringly. “Need to talk about it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was silent on the matter for a moment before he dropped his hand into his lap. “I know he isn’t you. Not some Punk that tried to die if the breeze blew at him just right.” Saying it out loud, Bucky thought it sounded stupid. “How long has he been sick?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since yesterday,” Steve answered. “While you were gone we had an event here. We were stuck outside in the rain and Clint was up higher. Caught a cold I guess. Even Sam had the sniffles today from it, but Sam had some cover unlike Clint. Anyway, he mentioned he was feeling a bug coming a few days ago so it must have just made it a little worse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky nodded and leaned over, pressing up against Steve who wrapped his arm around Bucky. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Clint for a minute. “You know how many hours I sat with you wondering if you would pull through?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know,” Steve said, his voice softening now to just above a whisper. “As you said. He’s not me, Bucky. Clint’s healthy. As I said, JARVIS is monitoring him. If there is even the smallest sign that Clint might be distressed, we can whisk him to a hospital.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s eyes landed on the smokey mix of blue and red trailing around Clint’s wrist, the mix of purple where they two met. He could remember seeing the blue the first time when they met, when Clint had confidently held his hand out to shake Bucky’s. Bucky could remember hating that Steve had another soulmate. It took a month before Bucky touched Clint the first time and felt the searing heat from a soulmark appearing on his thigh. He could remember Clint glancing down at his wrist and Bucky watched in wonder as the red smokey mark started to fill in, mixing and twisting around Steve’s mark. That night, Bucky had shut himself away in his own room and stared at his thigh, at the two marks running parallel to each other. He had both been mad that he had taken so long to find out and happy because maybe, just maybe, Bucky could find a way to start opening up to Clint more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was damn near four months ago. Bucky was still trying to find ways to open up to Clint, even if the words couldn’t come. Clint was putting in the effort, finding ways to bridge that gap when he was tired of trying to talk it out. He would make Bucky’s tea if he was up at the right time, leaving a little note nearby wishing him a good day. Clint would return from trips out of the tower with baked goods and a fancy coffee for Bucky. And when Bucky was having a bad day and Steve was too close, Clint seemed to know exactly how to distract Steve so Bucky could feel like he could breathe again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was trying too. He tried to make coffee before Clint would wake up, and would always save him food at family night if he knew Clint was running late. He would flip the closed captions on when Clint entered the room and caught that soft, shy smile when Clint didn’t think Bucky was looking. But that was the thing- Bucky was </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> looking. He just couldn’t figure out how to get on the same wavelength as Clint sometimes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tonight though- tonight had Bucky mildly concerned. Tonight Bucky wanted to be the one to sleep next to Clint, something he hadn’t brought himself to do yet. He wanted to experience what it was like when Clint woke up, to feel him moving instead of hearing it. He wanted to see if Clint would sprawl on him like he did with Steve every morning since Bucky asked him if he would consider coming back into the bedroom. He wasn’t sure who was more happy about it between the two blondes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he knew he couldn’t. He wanted it so bad, but he knew he would be restless and risk waking Clint up. He didn’t want to smother Clint, baby him like he was fragile because he knew how much Clint hated feeling like he was being pitied. Steve had warned Bucky that it was better to let Clint be the one to approach the cuddling when he was in one of those darker moods or when he was hurt. Bucky still wanted to learn where that behavior stemmed from since the guy had a habit of cuddling up to anyone that was sitting; he could still remember Tony’s resigned look when Clint practically draped himself over Tony’s lap, just like he could remember Bruce’s small, happy smile when Bucky found Clint sleeping against the doctor’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want to go to bed?” Steve asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m too awake,” Bucky answered. “I think I’m going to go do something to waste some energy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want company?” Steve offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Someone should stay with him,” Bucky answered with a shake of his head. “Let me know if he gets worse?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will,” Steve promised, leaning over to kiss Bucky’s cheek. “He’s going to be fine, Buck. Try to come to bed sooner rather than later, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky gave a small nod and stood up. He spared one more glance at Clint before he left the entire floor. It would have been nice to have Steve come with him. A few rounds of sparring and Bucky was sure he would be tired and worn enough to fall asleep. But with Clint sick and looking vulnerable, Bucky couldn’t risk it. He knew that Avengers Tower was safe, probably the safest place Clint could be at the moment, but nothing was unbreachable. Hell, looking at Clint’s track record alone Bucky knew that if someone really wanted to get in and close, they could- it would tell a hell of a person but they did exist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Floor six, please,” Bucky requested, the AI system taking care of the rest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky could try to work out his stress, punch a bag a few times. He could maybe even shoot his stress out, or swim it out. Maybe he could bake it out. But Bucky’s fingers were tingling and he wanted to put them to good use. So when the elevator opened, Bucky opened the door to one of the ballrooms enough to slip in, not bothering to close the door behind him. He walked across the room to a piano and sat down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Winnifred Barnes had insisted her children learn to play the piano. Bucky could remember sitting there for hours a week, trying to learn to play. At one point in his early years, Bucky hadn’t been bad- it was a skill he was decent at. Becca had been better at it, but she was naturally better at a lot of things Bucky hadn’t been. His mother never teased him about it, instead staying soft as she took him through the different sheet music. Sometimes he could still smell her perfume, or feel the way her hands would push his hair out of his eyes, fixing it so it would look just so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now- Bucky wasn’t sure he remembered how to play, really. He knew the motions, but he couldn’t remember how to read the sheet music. It was now a casual hobby, trying to teach himself how to play. If he was really that curious, he could ask Pepper for help- she reminded Bucky of his little sister in a lot of ways, which made him shy away from the idea. That quick wit, all that natural talent, and her compassion. No, Bucky was afraid of what memories would be drawn up if he went down that road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took him a half hour to find sheet music on his phone, needing to remember to order books online. It was a simple song, but it was still a challenge, trying to find the right keys. It wasn’t smooth like it had been, jarring and hesitant all at once. It was frustrating. But it helped him calm down in a weird way, like he could put all his frustrations into this rather than having to focus on what he knew he should. It was something he could get lost to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of the door opening further startled Bucky out of his weird sense of peace. He turned in his seat and the words got caught up in his throat. Clint was walking over slowly, his feet bare, and Bucky wanted to yell at him that sick people should be wearing socks. His hair was sticking up every which way, still damp from his night sweats. Bucky knew everyone loved Clint when he was at his best- tight clothes and oozing confidence. Bucky loved Clint like this- soft, not hiding behind a mask and allowing himself to exist as he was. It was a breath of fresh air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should be in bed,” Bucky said finally.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You just got home after two weeks. I wanted to check in on you,” Clint said quietly. “I didn’t know you knew how to play.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am trying to remember how to play,” Bucky answered. “I used to be alright at it. Ask Stevie.” Clint smiled at the nickname and stopped a few feet away. He was tucked into himself, trying to keep himself warm despite wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. “You ever think about learning?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clint shrugged a little, not bothering to come closer. It was always a weird distance between them, even as they tried to figure out how they work. “Sometimes. Sometimes I think it might help, having a different hobby. I tried guitar. I just…” Clint shrugged and looked down. “It’s a long story.” Bucky knew that face- it was something from when he was younger, something that stuck with him through his life and was hard to shake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky scooted over. “Come on,” he said, patting the bench.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I shouldn’t. You were enjoying-” Clint began to protest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you here,” Bucky said. Clint looked surprised then unsure. “Look, I’m sure Steve told you about all the times I looked after him while he was sick. Seeing you in bed looking all sorts of miserable… it would help me calm down if you came over. Maybe we can learn piano together, or maybe I can just keep my eye on you tonight. Either way, it’s a winning situation for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clint looked at the piano and back. “I’m sick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I can’t get sick,” Bucky answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I probably won’t be good-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can just say you don’t want to, Clint,” Bucky said, looking away and turning back to face the piano. “It’s fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was surprised when he felt Clint sit next to him, in his space. Bucky glanced over, did a quick assessment. Clint looked tired, his eyes glossy as he sniffled. Clint’s eyes scanned the keys, his fingers twitching, and Bucky suspected there was a hint of an excited smile on his lips. Clint took a deep breath before he seemed to relax a fraction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How does it work?” Clint asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky smiled and scooted closer. “It’ll help once you learn how to read sheet music. But for now… you learn how to do the scales. Or, uh- press the keys and all that. Hold on- there was a video I was watching-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky lost track of time again after that. They watched the video together this time, Clint’s eyes flickering between the video and the piano in front of him. Then they worked on their finger placement, pressing keys. Bucky was so used to see Clint when he was confident or calm- seeing Clint look unsure yet determined was a whole different side he hadn’t expected. He didn’t expect the furrowed brows as he tried to puzzle out what he was supposed to do. The little frustrated noises and his lips twitching. When Clint’s nose scrunched in distaste over missing a chord Bucky wanted to lean over and kiss it just to see what Clint would have done. He wishes he would have followed through.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then there were moments of pure excitement that made Bucky soften a little. Clint’s face lit up when he got something right, Bucky knowing to follow up with praise over the action to draw a blush out of the archer. There were the small touches as either of them grazed their fingers over the keys, each other’s hands. The times Clint would knock his knee into Bucky’s thigh and keep it there. It was the closest they had been outside of missions, the first time Bucky allowed himself not to shy away from the small touches he had watched Clint do so many times with Steve. Bucky wasn’t sure if he was encouraging it or if Clint felt like he could take the chances now, or if it was almost an unconscious reaction from Clint. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sunlight was starting to filter in through the window, giving the room a warm glow. Clint was pressed against Bucky now, his smile turning more tired by the minute. Bucky hadn’t realized how long they had been at it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Bucky said. “For sitting here with me. Doing this. You should have been sleeping.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a cold,” Clint answered. “Steve made me wear the stupid band,” he added, showing off a thin, white band around Clint’s wrist; Clint clearly wasn’t thrilled by the thing. “Being monitored- it would have said something if I wasn’t alright.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You still look rather ill,” Bucky admitted, reaching up to run a hand over Clint’s hair before touching his forehead. “Still warm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clint shrugged, not batting Bucky’s hand away. “I wanted to do this with you I guess.” Bucky felt shocked. “We don’t- we still don’t know how to move around each other when we are outside of missions. I just thought maybe this could be something…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky smiled and kissed Clint’s temple, startling him. Clint turned his face to looked at Bucky before he smiled. “We should do this again sometime?” Clint offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Practice makes perfect,” Bucky agreed with a smile. “Maybe that’s all we need to keep doing. Practicing with each other until we find a way to make this feel right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never thought I’d get a life lesson out of playing around on a piano,” Clint laughed, followed up closely with a coughing fit. With a groan, Clint’s whole body seemed to sag. “I am going back to bed now. My head feels all weird.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mind if I join you?” Bucky asked, getting up after Clint had, following him back to the elevator. He kept stride, didn’t pull away from the sway of Clint’s body, when it would brush against Bucky’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Depends,” Clint said slowly. “How do you feel about a sick guy invading your space? I’m not exactly a polite sleeper on my good days. I’m less so when I’m sick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky leaned over against Clint, testing just how far he could take it. When Clint didn’t so much as flinch, Bucky was pretty sure if he could learn how to play the piano, he could learn how to love his other soulmate. “I think I’d like to practice getting used to it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’d like that too,” Clint admitted, letting his head fall against Bucky’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve was coming out of the kitchen when Clint and Bucky made it back to their floor. He walked over, handing a mug of tea over to Clint and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Drink something, okay? Don’t get dehydrated.” Clint mumbled his thanks as he took a sip. “Where were you two, anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Playin’ with the piano,” Bucky said. “Thought I’d pick up a new hobby.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve raised an eyebrow and looked at Clint. Clint lowered his mug. “Mmh- he was warm and smelled good. I’ll learn the stupid piano if that means I get to cozy up to him more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are about to cozy up enough,” Bucky pointed out. “Good get in bed- I’ll meet you there in a minute.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s like dating two mother hens and I hate it,” Clint complained as he shuffled off. “Bossy,” he called back to Bucky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve smiled more when he heard the door close. He lowered his head before he looked at Bucky. “You alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m alright,” Bucky answered. “I… asked if I could join him. Told him I wanted to learn to get used to him sprawling all over someone like the heathen he is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve snorted and reached out, firmly taking hold of Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s really not that bad,” he promised. “Don’t push yourself too much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have a feeling I haven’t been pushin’ myself enough,” Bucky said. He grabbed a hold of Steve’s hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You want to join us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I will hold off this time,” Steve answered. “But tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tonight,” Bucky agreed.</span>
</p>
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